The biker next door, p.1
The Biker Next Door, page 1
The Biker Next Door ©2024 Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
No AI (artificial intelligence) was used in the production of this book.
Contents
Dedication
ROYAL BASTARDS CODE
The Biker Next Door
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Epilogue
Dear, Reader
16. About Glenna
To my true crime and makeup loving babes.
ROYAL BASTARDS CODE
PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’ Lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY: Takes precedence overall, including well-being.
HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.
The Biker Next Door
Stella
My next-door neighbor isn’t a good man. He’s an outlaw biker, and I’m certain he’s stalking me. Leaving threatening notes on my car. Watching my every move. He’s always doing things to scare me. He says I’m playing a dangerous game because I ask too many questions. I make too much noise about his club on my podcast. I don’t care that he’s unbelievably good looking or dangerous. I won’t stop pursuing the truth until I catch my sister’s killer. Until I take down him and his club.
T-bird
My new neighbor is hotter than hell with a stone-cold heart. She’s also considered an enemy. The stubborn woman doesn’t know when to quit. She has no idea what she’s up against. Blaming my club for her sister’s disappearance isn’t going to get her the answers she seeks. I’ve been tasked with silencing her, but I’m falling for the enemy.
Will she learn to trust me, or will she be doomed to her sister’s fate?
Chapter One
“Stop being a pussy about it.” Ember tickles my rib and snatches the slip of paper with the ridiculous tattoo design printed on it from my death clutch.
“You didn’t tell me there would be shit like that in the machine.” I know I sound like a whiny bitch. When I volunteered as tribute to get a tattoo, I didn’t realize what I was signing on for. My father is probably rolling over in his grave.
A yellow cartoon bird. That’s the tattoo I got out of the quarter machine. Un-fucking-real. I can’t do it. Not even with the promise of Ember being the artist.
Roane steps up behind Ember to see for himself what has me crying like one of his kids. His eyes do a scan of the design, and he snorts. “Tough break, man.”
“Come on. You know I’ll never live this down if she brands me with that.”
“It’s ink, not a fucking cattle mark. Sit your ass in the chair. You gave your word. Stand by it.”
Scrubbing a palm over my face as a cold damp sweat breaks out across the back of my neck, I’m debating making a fucking run for it. I’m no pussy, but this is embarrassing. The brothers of the club will never respect me with a tattoo like that. I’ve got a lot to prove. I’m currently a prospect, but my father, God rest his soul, was once the Vice Prez. I can’t afford to fuck this up.
I’ve got a legacy to carry.
A patch to earn.
Fucking hell, this is going to suck.
Letting out a sigh of defeat, I sit in the fucking chair and say a prayer Ember at least makes it look bad ass. She lifts the sleeve of my t-shirt. “What do you think, Roane? About four inches and hot pink.”
“Fuck no.” I jump out of the chair as Ember laughs at me. She’s enjoying torturing me way too much.
Squeezing my bicep, she bats her lashes at me. “Don’t be a wuss puss.”
Roane shakes his head as Smoke enters the party.
Who invited this asshole?
Great. To add insult to injury. The dude who got the girl is here to witness this. Never fails. If get five seconds with Ember, his ass shows up to ruin it.
“Hey, babydoll. We still on for lunch?”
“Yup. After I give Trenton the bird.” She kisses his lips and I want to throw up at the sight of how happy they are together.
Ember should be with me instead of him. Hell, if I’m being honest, neither of us deserves her. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t cut to see the two of them together. Especially when I know what a dickhead he can be. She’s too good for him. Too young. Not that it’s my place to judge their age gap. I’m a little too old for her myself.
“We doing this or what?” I grumble, flopping back down in the seat.
“All right. Everyone out except T-Bird.” She flashes me her dazzling smile, looking at me all sweet with her big baby doll eyes. Ember’s gorgeous. Long dark hair that I know is silky to the touch. Curves in all the right places. A body that jeans were made to be molded to fit. A smoke show.
A pure heart-stopper. But she belongs to another man.
“T-bird?” Smoke gives me a sharp look and I shrug.
“It suits him. Especially now that he’ll be rocking a kick ass Tweety Bird tat.”
Doubling over, arms wrapped around his gut, the bearded bastard laughs hard enough to choke. Roane thumps his hand in the middle of his spine. Standing back up, cheeks beet red, he shakes his head. “Good luck ever getting any pussy.”
“Okay. Out with you.” Ember narrows her eyes at him, and I smirk.
“Yeah, get out. I don’t want your perverted ass in here when I drop my drawers so your woman can tattoo my ass.”
“No fucking way,” he snarls, spit flying out of his mouth.
“We need our privacy. Maybe I’ll get it on my dick instead.”
He starts toward me, but Roane slaps him on the chest. “Come on. Out you go. Ember’s a professional. You trust your woman. Don’t start doubting her now.”
“I trust her. It’s this asshole that’s the problem.” He jabs a finger in my direction. “You so much as fucking breathe funny toward her and I swear to fuck I’ll chop your nuts off and shove’m down your throat.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Blow me.” I cup my junk with one hand and flip him the bird with the other.
“Your old man’s name won’t protect you forever, dicklick. You better watch it.”
I want to tell him the only thing anyone will be watching is me moving in on his girl but think better of it. Only because I’m aware Ember wouldn’t go there. I’m in the friend zone. She’s in love with Smoke. God only knows why.
“We need to have a chat before you leave. It’s about your assignment.”
I lift my chin in response. I’m sick of looking at him and hearing his obnoxious voice.
Ember rolls her eyes. “My life would be much simpler if the two of you could get along for five seconds.”
Smoke and Roane leave, but not before he does that stupid fingers to eye motion to demonstrate he’s watching me.
“What can I say? He brings out the asshole in me.” I go for my zipper and Ember’s eyes go big.
“I thought you were joking about your ass. If you really want it there, I’ll need to shave you.”
I lick my lips. “I don’t have a hairy ass.” Crossing my arms over my stomach, I lift my tee and pull it off, even though it isn’t necessary. “My bicep is fine, sweetheart.” I don’t want to hurt her feelings. There’s no way in hell I’m going around with that cartoon bird on my arm for the rest of my life. Let alone my ass. I’ll be making an appointment as soon as possible to have it covered. Today, though, I know she needs the work to build up her experience and clientele.
I’m doing what any good friend would do. Even a friend who wants to fuck her.
“Promise you I’ll make it cool.” She washes her hands and grabs a pair of gloves.
“No hot pink,” I warn.
“Trust me.” She sits on her stool and scoots closer, pressing the transfer to my arm. “I won’t do you wrong.”
Breaks my heart that this is the only way she’ll
“When Johnny’s older brother went missing, he vowed to do whatever it took to find him. It’s been three years without a lead, but he refuses to allow his brother to be forgotten. He said his memory remains in the back of his mind, waiting for him to come find him. To bring him home dead or alive.
The disappearance of Brian Ipswich led me to host my podcast and starting a local true crime group that meets once a month to discuss local unsolved cases. Most reports have a common theme. A drug known by the street name of Cloud Nine. A deadly concoction that destroys lives and has taken over our city.
At the center of the controversy is a local motorcycle club. One I can’t name, due to safety concerns, but we all know who they are. A dangerous group of outlaws who control the streets of Charleston. A royal pain in the ass for law enforcement.”
I stare at Smoke as the audio stops there. “What the fuck is that?”
“Your assignment. Find out who this bitch is behind this podcast. She’s been at it a while but getting bolder in hinting at the club. You know how Prez feels about negative press and shit.”
“Yeah, because we’re such outstanding citizens.”
“Shit isn’t funny. If you can’t take this seriously, then maybe you aren’t ready to wear that patch.”
“The club can count on me.”
“Good. Don’t fuck this up.”
Asshole doesn’t have to tell me twice. Smoke should take his own advice. We’ve both been walking a thin line since the night Ember was kidnapped by that stupid fuck her father wanted her to marry. I should say the dead fuck since Smoke and Prodigy blew his brains out. Him and his buddy. Ember is Prodigy’s sister and on her way to becoming Smoke’s Ol’ Lady.
If he hurts her again, I’ll have no problem taking him on again. Might get my ass kicked again. She’s worth it. Ember’s a sweet girl who deserves to be treated like gold. Smoke is a womanizing prick, but I admit, since the kidnapping bullshit, he’s been doing right by her.
“You boys done with your chat?” She flashes us a smile that would bring any man to his knees. Her gorgeous, big blue eyes sparkle with nothing but adoration for her man.
“Yeah, babydoll.” Smoke pulls her in for a kiss, rubbing it in my face that he got the girl.
His hand paws at her ass to give her a good squeeze.
Makes me sick.
Seeing him groping her.
I won’t make a move on his woman. Not unless he gives me an in by fucking up. For now, I settle for being her friend. Smoke doesn’t like it, but he keeps his mouth shut. In front of her, at least unless provoked.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah. See you around, T-bird.” She smiles at me again and my damn heart leaps into my throat. I fucking hate and love it here.
“Later,” I manage to croak out as she saunters toward the front of the shop.
Smoke hangs back. “Find out who that bitch is.” His fist connects with my arm right where my fresh ink is.
I bite my tongue to keep from groaning. “Sure thing.” I crank my arm and shake off the punch.
First things first. I need a fucking joint.
I ride out to the clubhouse with this damn bird inked on my arm, hoping like hell no one asks to see it. I’ll be laughed out of Charleston.
Chapter Two
“Happy Friday all you Lipstick and Bloodstain crime junkies. If you’re just tuning in for the first time, my name is Stella and each week I talk about beauty products and true crime. Two of my favorite things and if you’re listening, then I’m assuming you’re into them too. This week I’m testing the radiant lip butter from a native to my city of Charleston, WV. She owns an all-natural apothecary type store. I’m not really sure what to call it, but they also sell crystals and all your witchy needs. So, if that’s your thing, then you should head to Barefoot Moon Goddess downtown and see Bianca. She will hook you up. I’d also like to thank her for being my sponsor this week.”
Fucking finally. I snuff out my joint and down the rest of my beer. I’ve been listening to this chick gush about makeup and murder for hours. Sure, this mystery woman has a voice that’s sultry and practically caresses my dick every time she laughs, but I have a job to do. Now I have a clue. Bianca has to know who this chick is. I pop my earbuds out and shove them back in their case before heading downstairs to the bar to see if Sandman is hanging around.
I find the crazy bastard shooting pool with Viking. If I want to ask about his ol’ lady, I need to butter him up with liquor. He’s possessive as fuck over his woman, but hell, what man in this club that’s got their pussy locked down isn’t. My old man used to say a good woman was a blessing and a curse. Said a man could lose his goddamned mind over good pussy. He wasn’t wrong. I’ve watched men kill over less. Watched them fight to the near death for the love of a woman.
Like Viking. He went to battle for his wife. Hell, as much as I don’t like Smoke at times, I know the prick would kill for her. I shake off those thoughts. I need to let it go. Get over the fact that in her eyes the better man won. Leave that shit in the rearview. Keep moving forward.
I head behind the bar and have one of the other prospects fetch me a couple of old school Jäger bombs. Made with beer instead of Red Bull.
“Drinks are on me.” I chuckle and hand them out.
“Prospect,” Viking mutters and throws his back.
“Can I get the next game?”
“I’ve gotta ride out. Bianca is expecting me for dinner.” Sandman hands his shot glass to Viking.
“Hey man, speaking of the witch.”
Sandman’s dark eyes cut to me, forming into tiny slits.
I hold up my palm. “I’m working on something, and she sponsored a podcast. I just need to ask her who the chick is.”
“This that bitch running her mouth about the club?”
“Yup. Trying to earn my cut, ya know?”
Sandman rakes a palm over his face. “Fuck.”
“She won’t like hex me or some shit, will she?”
Viking snorts.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“If you piss her off,” Viking carries on. “She put Sandman’s willy out of action for a month.”
“That true?”
“Fuck yeah, it’s true. Motherfucker scarred Andi for life when he dropped his damn pants and showed us the damage.”
My balls shrivel as I grab my junk on instinct. “Damage? What do you mean, damage?” Sandman’s witchy woman kind of terrifies me. She’s a dainty thing, but that means nothing when it comes to the weird intuition she has. I don’t know how the dude sleeps next to her at night without fear of what she will do if he pisses her off.
The two of them share a look and start laughing.
“Assholes,” I grumble.
“If you want to talk to my woman, follow me to the apartment.”
“You sure you can’t ask her and just text me the information?”
“Are you getting a load of this? Prospect is scared of Bianca,” Viking gossips to Banks like a bitch. The pair of them laughing at my expense.
“Shit, brother. The thought of her hexing my dick out of commission would scare me too,” Banks mutters.
“You want your cut or not, man?” Sandman asks me as if it’s even a question.
Since I learned how to crawl, being a Royal Bastard has been all I’ve thought about. Living up to my father’s expectations. Riding next to his ghost. This is what I was born for. To be a part of the brotherhood and ride or die in the name of loyalty. In the name of the freedom we ache for. The right to own the open road and all that it offers. “Right. I knock back the extra shot.”
“What’s with the bandage?” Viking pokes me in the arm with the tip of the pool stick.
“Nothing.”
“Looks like he got some new ink,” Madison, one of the new club sluts, purrs while picking up our empty glasses.
“Let’s see it,” Sandman orders.
Fuck me. “It’s not finished.”
“You want to speak to my Ol’ Lady or not?”
Knowing I may as well get this shit over with, I rip off the bandage and shove the sleeve of my t-shirt up. “Go ahead and laugh it up.” The back of my neck sweats as embarrassment oozes through my veins.
